Chapter Text
“Mom and Dad are coming home!”
The radio announced it with such glee, but the Nest fell silent at the news. An announcement of Mom and Dad echoing across every ravine, slicing in and out of the hard static, only meant one thing in the Zones. Logically, watchful guardian eyes check in on their loved children from time to time. Here come and arrive the television screens to steal your ghosted soul dry, pushing the unoiled front door against barren winds; the treaded wheels and fangs of capital punishment roaring for all of killjoys' sins with an offering of warm welcomes and whiskey and wine on the side; a long awaited family reunion to celebrate a duodecennial.
The Nest had been off their map for too long.
For so long, that it was hard to ignore how sudden their vulnerability was. It was hard to ignore what this meant for them to have a poison red target painted, as anti-climatically as ever, across their collective backs. Hardwood windows were secured along their hinges, and the lights were turned out as if this electrical access wasn't so finite. Broken locks which had been ignored for ages suddenly found themselves fixed anew and turning crisp into place, once their keys were all dug out of junk drawers and crevices.
The sound of laughter hadn't vanished yet, however, as everyone settled easily into the comforts of knowing they'd all get through this night in the end. If it were true Better Living knew where they were, that was far from a death sentence. And if Better Living truly were a death sentence after all, then that was nothing short of an excuse to find home a little early. Following this, most crews elected not to do much more than hunker down and hold their base steady. A home team is only as strong as their defensive line and, perhaps more importantly, a defensive line is way more fun to hold. Bottles were popped and zone-juice mixed in a bowl. Hair was braided and kisses exchanged. Blasting guns has its charm and all, but it's hard to get a good party out of the wilderness’ black sand.
The killjoy closest to Volume, them both sitting on the carpet now, offered another pain med to him which he turned down gratefully. Shrugging, this killjoy elected to dry swallow it themselves. Charmed, Volume mused that their hair, a lollypop blue, must’ve been freshly dyed for the way their baby hairs caught the light. It was more than likely that the sink was freshly stained now as well. Often used and rarely cleaned, the Nest’s sink was like a canvas upon itself. The average killjoy wiped it down with a dry rag for every mess they made despite the cleaning supplies kept a room over. To be fair, what use would a white sink be? And to bring up the obvious, what use would cleaning supplies be for killjoys other than for crafting pipe bombs or inventing a new chemical to huff.
What a life, Volume considered. What a life in this house. When Mx. Lollypop Blue offered Volume a cigarette next, he didn’t decline other than a brief hesitation to pause and wonder if Vinyl still had those sweet ones from the Market tucked away somewhere under their shared mattress. He recalled they tasted like air, and Vaya suspected they’d been laced with just enough Sugar for it not to be evident. He’d settle for plain smoke until next time.
The other Killjoy Volume had the pleasure to stakeout next to, was the metalhead Pavement. From what Volume could gather, Pavement had just finished securing up the parameters with his crew a few minutes ago - a full half at most. Pavs, an old reliable acquaintance, was the one who promised to help change the bandages hugging Volume’s stomach while the other V’s were out tonight. And in exchange, Volume made a mental note to pay Pavs back with a gift later this week. Maybe a new CD or a patch for his jacket - it was difficult not to compare his own jacket to Pavement’s but it was never from a place of envy, only admiration.
Speaking of the V’s, however, of course they were out tonight, excluding Volume who was still recovering.
When Val Velocity looked around at his community’s shelter-in-place consensus he responded with a resounding,
“Fuck that.”
At long last the airwaves had given him the excuse he needed to blow up at someone after Volume’s accident. Val’s yelling match with that undergrad (the very one who Volume nearly died trying to save the morning before) ended with the newbie getting corpsed, the hole in their head puffing smoke like incense.
As he recalled the hours before, Volume exhaled a pathetic looking smoke ring to Lollypop Blue’s amusement.
Once that ordeal with the undergrad was wrapped up, Val made it clear to the V’s they’d be leaving soon. They’d meet up with these incoming cowardly crows halfway. And, yes, this wasn’t optional. And yes, this act of performative foolishness would save their home from ambush, Val promised. And no, no, of course he didn’t know where the Girl was, why would he know that? What do you take him for - some kind of babysitter? The dust angel could take care of herself.
Personally, Volume figured she must’ve run off again by now, especially after witnessing how Val welcomed that other outsider today. And he didn’t blame her. A room over, a ray gun went off but judging by the laughter that followed it must’ve surprised nothing more important than a ceiling. The Nest was getting restless, their quarantine less eventful than anyone had feared or hoped. According to their clock hanging over peeling wallpaper, and assuming that this clock was still getting wound regularly, it was going on 2:00 in the morning now.
“You really shouldn’t,” Volume suggested during that previous afternoon. He was still cemented to the couch then, only at that point Vamos had helped prop him up with some pillows into a near-upright position. Improvement in small steps. And with the last whispers of fading sunset were peaking through the window behind him, and the quiet sound of clinking dishes heard from the kitchen nearby, Val dipped his head in Volume’s direction and in camp mockery (if not something else) asked, “Why not?”
Volume sighed heavily, twiddling at the loose unhemmed edges of his bandage. “Because that’s what they’re trying to do, y’know. They’re trying to get us scared or coax us out in smaller numbers, or both. It’d take too much firepower for a drac squadron to take all of us at once, but if it were just you four they could. What’re you gonna get done wandering around the dark looking for them?” He coughed, and felt a light hand on his shoulder as Val steadied him. “And why do you think it is you’re the only one here wanting to leave?” Volume finished.
Val shook his head, frowning. “If I’m the ‘only one here’ wanting to roll out, then you’ll be fine. I'm not ditching you alone. Don’t worry about that."
“- You’re worried about me? Look, I -”
“- As long as you have the rest of these sandpups to look after things around here, just think of it as me taking these three out on an errand and be back by the morning. No problem -”
“- Hey, no! Yes problem, you’ll get hurt -”
“- Even in the case of an exterminator or two, we will have the upper hand as the offensive. We’ll have ourselves covered -”
“- Like we had ourselves covered yesterday? Val, listen to me for a second.” The crosstalk faded and silence warmed Volume. “You’re testing your luck down a member.”
Val glared at him, the corners of his eyes creasing. "Don't give yourself too much credit." Volume didn't respond.
Turning his head toward the rest of the Ultra V's, who'd been pretending not to overhear this entire conversation, Val sighed finally.
“Alright let’s roll," he said. "We're leaving. Leader's orders, assuming none of you murder wizards wanna hang back with Volume for this one?”
Vamos shrugged with a smile, “I'll jus' be wherever the death disco is. It's not like I've got any other plans for the night."
“Yeah, I need to cleanse my palate after yesterday’s disaster,” Vaya added, "Let's do something fun for once. And hey -" they leaned into their sibling "- what if Korse is there? I'll let you down 'im if you let me loot that shiny ruffle from around his neck."
"You mean his jabot?"
"Is that what it's called?"
"Yeah! Did you not know?"
"How do you even know? That's so mathematical."
"The latest BL fashion mag had all sorts of jabots highlighted in their cover story. I'm telling you, you've gotta borrow it with me some time and help me camp-up the designs."
Val snapped his fingers for their attention. "You can continue this outside." Then, without waiting for Vinyl's response to his earlier query, Val began to lead his crew out. “See you later, Vol.”
“Love you too,” Volume called back sarcastically. At least Vinyl waved goodbye as he walked out the door.
They were interrupted by a thud against the exterior wall. Even with the lights off as they’ve been, it was too dark to make out anything substantial through the windows. Crouched like mule deer ready to spring, a few killjoys gripped their guns tighter. Eyes wide and pupils blown, you could’ve heard a pin drop as they all held their breaths.
But nothing came.
Must’ve been the wind, and a collective sigh followed. The Nest killjoys relaxed in their shells and a nervous chuckle whispered anxious hope across them.
In an instant Better Living shattered the scene. They weren't there, and then they were there. Everywhere, in the light, in the smoke, in the blast of fire itself. And in the pain and screams and numbness Volume felt as he was pinned to the ground, where there was once a home there was now ash burning the back of his nose. He couldn’t see in the dark like this, only feel around for his gun - he must’ve dropped it - his fingers graced metal and he shot blindly at any streaks of white he saw through the smoke and rubble, praying that they weren't just his adrenaline's paranoia. Or worse, ghosts, and if he were seeing ghosts wouldn't that mean he were gone?
No, If the Witch had any mercy, she’d have shown herself by now. And the dead don’t ache in their spine like this.
But once he no longer heard anything around himself but silence, and saw no more colorless attackers around him, Volume relaxed back against whatever hunk of wood dug his back. Static throughout his limbs, he prayed the V's weren't facing anything like this wherever in the Zones they were right now. He prayed that at least they would be alright.